The Outsider: The Lost Chapters
by F6F Freak
Summary: Parts of The Outsider left out by its original author are filled in by Judith Lane, Curt's daughter. A prequel/sequel to The Outsider.
1. Chapter I

_When General Lambert wrote his _The Outsider_, he wasn't privy to some of the information that I now am. As a slave, my mother's memory had been tampered with many times, so that she didn't remember her true story until well after her marriage to my father. Once we found out the entirety of her story, it became even more incredible. I am certain you will agree with my assessment._

_Another story not present in Lambert's account were the events surrounding the death of my mother and father, simply because they hadn't happened at the time _The Outsider_ was written. I have accurate accounts of these events myself, and I hope that someday, the stories I tell here may someday be part of _The Outsider_. I consider them to be the lost chapters._

_-Judith Lane_

* * *

><p>"Mommy," Amanda heard her oldest daughter ask, "how long before Daddy and Seth are back?"<p>

She stooped to the level of the little Fox, "Michaela, I've already told you that they'll be back tomorrow."

"But I want to play with Seth! Beth, Amber and Thomas are too young to be fun."

"Michaela, I can't bring them back any faster, honey. You'll just have to make do with the rest of your brothers and sisters for now. Or go play with some other kids in the village."

The little Fox's ears laid down and her whole orange form sagged as she moped out of the small hut. Amanda got back to fixing supper; salted meats her husband had killed and preserved before he left so she'd have something to cook. She sighed to herself; secretly, she was just as anxious as Michaela for her husband and son's return. Just like she'd told Michaela, however, it would be soon before they got back. Not soon enough. She worried about the two of them when they were away; the city was a dangerous place for two country carpenters and farmers. Sure, her husband was one of the best swordsmen she knew and he was starting to teach Seth, but what did that mean if they were outnumbered and surrounded?

_He__ always __tells__ me__ that __I__ worry __too __much,_ she thought. She was most certainly worrying. As to whether or not it was justified worry, well, only the gods knew that. She glanced out the hut's small window; spotting Michaela playing quietly with some of the village's other children, along with her younger siblings. Amanda smiled. Michaela had turned three the day before. Like most Keidran, Amanda was the only member of the family—Michaela included—who kept track of the children's birthdays. Not that it really mattered. Keidran had nothing that began exactly at a certain age; only things that began over time around a certain time. Amanda shrugged and kept on cooking the salted venison. Once she'd boiled most the salt off, she removed it from the pot. It was still red, which was just the way she and her family liked it. Keidran liked cooked meat at times. There were other times when they liked it raw. They usually liked it somewhere in the middle. Amanda took the last of the strips from the pot and dropped rolls of ground beef from the city into it. They would soak up the salt and taste from the venison. It was difficult for Amanda to make dishes interesting enough for all the children to like then when all she had was meat, salt and water. She shrugged, _that__'__s __life__ when__ you__'__re__ poor__ and __a__ carnivore._

She waited for the meatballs to brown on the outside. They would still be raw and flavorful on the inside, though. She used one of the spoons with holes in it that Seth had made for her to pull the meatballs out of the boiling water and placed them into a large bowl with the venison strips. She leaned out the door and called to the children, "C'mon, kids, time to eat!"

As usual, they all stormed in at once and sat on the hut's mud floor. Amanda gave each of them several strips of venison and a couple meatballs, which they all choked down nearly immediately. Amanda smiled as she ate her own share. The children conversed quietly amongst each other. They talked about the other kids in the village a bit. Eventually, the conversation came around to Seth and Jeff. Thomas wondered when they would be back.

"Tomorrow," Michaela provided. Beth wanted them back sooner.

"They'll get here the same time, don't matter what you want," Michaela said. For barely three, Michaela was a smart little thing. Those words were better than anything Amanda could have told Beth.

"But why they got'ta be gone so long?" Thomas wined.

Michaela didn't have an answer for that one. She looked to Amanda. Amanda answered for her, "Honey, they're selling things so we can get things, honey." She smiled warmly.

"Then why do they have to go for so long, momma?" Amber asked.

Amanda praised her by rubbing her head. Amber was just barely learning to speak, so when she did, Amanda was sure to reinforce the habit. "Because they make more money when they stay gone longer. And don't no one else ask questions," Amanda said to them all, "you're mostly too young to get it, anyhow. Run along and play, now," she said, making shooing motions. The children enthusiastically got up and ran out of the hut.

No matter how much Michaela may have protested otherwise, they all loved to play with the other village kids. It beat the heck out of housework, Amanda thought as she got up to wash out the dishes. The pot she'd boiled the meat in still had salt and fat in its water. She poured the water from it into a shallow dish and sat it out in the sun so the water would dry up and the salt and fat would keep. She used the remainder of the fresh water in the wooden pail to wash out the used pot and bowl. The good thing about eating with one's hands was that there were few dishes to wash. Nonetheless, she would have to go down to the stream and get more water.

She shrugged; what could she do about it? That established, she grabbed the wooden pail and walked out the back door to go down to the stream. She walked down the winding trail contemplatively. It was quiet save the birds chirping away and the occasional cricket and cicada making their respective shrill noises. If one was close enough, it hurt her sensitive ears. That was yet another thing about which she could do nothing. So, nonetheless, she dipped the pail in the stream and pulled up the cold, clear water. She sat the bucket on the bank of the crisp, clear, babbling water and scooped some up with her furry hands, taking a good drink. It was wonderfully cool and refreshing. She had yet to lose her winter coat completely and it was mid-spring, which meant that she got rather hot. _What__ I__ wouldn__'__t__ do __for__ a__ proper__ brush __these __kinds__ of__ days,_she thought, grabbed the bucket and headed back to the village. She still had a wooden one her husband had made her, but it hurt her skin and pulled her hair. She still used it frequently, for no other reason than they had given it to her.

She walked through the back door of the hut and sat the pail beside the fire. She grabbed a straw broom and swept the dirt floor of the hut out, cleaning out any food the kids had left behind. She didn't want ants in the hut, not that day.

Piercing the silence of the dull day, she heard a loud scream. Fox Keidran came running out of the woods, yelling something else in panic-filled tones of Keidran. Naturally, all the members of the village who were present—mostly females as the men were off hunting or at their various trades—came out of their huts to see what the commotion was about. They gathered in the streets staring in the direction of the screams.

Finally, a group of Fox came running out of the woods onto the village's outskirts. Their words were excited and not at all comprehensible. Eventually, the running Keidran's words became clear enough to understand, "Wolves! Slave traders! They'r…" the Fox's words were cut but a bright blue bolt to her back. A black magic dragon's head followed, grabbing those of the returning, panicked party and some who were nearby in the village. They vanished as the translucent head slithered back into the woods.. Amber, quite without thinking, ran out into the village common, scooping Amber and Beth into her arms, yelling at Thomas and Michaela to run with her. Michaela grabbed Thomas and jerked him with her. He was hesitant, wanting to stay and see what the commotion was about. Neither Amanda nor Michaela, who served as part-time mother to her younger siblings, would let that happen. Within seconds, they were running through the woods.

They were forced to stop for breath eventually. When they did, Amanda saw the black manna tentacles writhing through the forest. She sighed and looked to her children, wrapping them in a hug before the evil caught up with them. "I love you, never forget that. Stay strong, your lives will get better. I promise." That was all she could remember before the black swept over her.

* * *

><p>Templar Council Member Josh Tigreson surveyed his most recent catch from the Wolves he had hired. From the looks of it, they'd taken an entire village during midday in midweek. That wasn't an opportune time for capturing male slaves, not at all. Then again, the current market wasn't very demanding for male slaves. Most farmers were too poor to buy slaves. Those that weren't already had enough slaves to do for some time. Taverns and wealthy merchants, now, they wanted pretty females for their own purposes, be it cleaning or something far more sinister. Small boys and girls were a favorite of some more… <em>questionable<em> groups of the market. Speculators liked little ones, too, because they were cheaper than full-grown slaves and there was a good chance that, with the right preparation, these would grow up to be the big strong slaves or the pretty barmaids. If not, they still made good house servants.

Those sectors of the market in mind, this was a good group the Wolves had brought back, though he did wish that there would have been just a few more burly males. _I__'__ll__ live,_he thought with a shrug. He turned to the leader of the Wolves, "This is good. Good hunt. Though, next time, I'd like to see one or two more males."

The leader of the wolves, a certain Naori, shrugged as he accepted his payment. "You said you wanted more females."

Josh nodded, "That's still full payment for a reason."

Naori shrugged and counted the Templar minted gold and silver coins. The slave trade was a profitable business. Anyone who thought that Josh didn't profit personally was dead wrong. "So it is," Naori said and pocketed the coins. He motioned for his men to move away from the slaves and called to them in Keidran. They herded the chained Foxes towards the Templar who waited by the slave wagons. Josh's men then loaded them into said wagons as Naori and Josh made small talk.

"How is the market looking, speaking of?" the Wolf asked

"Well. Our new Grand Templar has a particular loathing for your kind, so he wants more slaves. I received a promotion because of my involvement in the trade, as a matter of fact."

"That's very good news," the Wolf said toothily.

The Templar nodded. "Yes, though I fear it may create a problem in the long run."

The Wolf raised an attentive ear, awaiting a further explanation.

"Supply and demand—if the market is flooded with all the slaves it needs, they will be less needed. Lower price for the both of us."

The Wolf nodded. "Yes, yes, I see what you mean. What about sugar plantations in the East? They go through slaves in months."

"They're closer to the Tigers and Cats. Most the slaves will come from there."

"The Tigers are far more able to counter than the Fox. More like we Wolf."

Josh had to nod at that, "Indeed. There's a reason Tiger slaves are considered exotic. Wolves and Tigers don't take our incursions lightly. So we hire them to take slaves from the other clans."

"Bloody awful system, ain't it?"

Josh grimaced. "Indeed it is. I don't like it, really, but that's the way it is. The way it's gonna be."

The Wolf nodded, "At least it will be for our lifetimes. Maybe our children will move beyond it."

"We can only pray."

Naori nodded somberly, "I always thought you were a good man, no matter your business, Josh."

"A matter of personal opinion, honestly," he said with a shrug. His wife and son were Tiger Keidran he'd met in his travels as a Templar. When Human/Keidran relations had started getting strained, he'd hired Wolves to level the village he lived in and take the children away to foster homes in their native territories with their memories wiped and their true species masked by complex spells. He'd given the adults no mercy. Nor had he given the Wolves any. He hadn't paid them. He'd murdered them. Now he was the only man on Mekkan who knew and that was just the way he liked it. But he sure wasn't a good man, not by any measure.

The Wolf clicked two claws in front of Josh's face. "You there?"

Josh snapped back to reality, "Yeah, sorry, what'd you say?"

"I said that they've finished loading the slaves. See you in two weeks.

"Yeah. Remember, a few more burly males this time."

"Of course, sir."

_Just __another __day __in __the__ world__ we__ live, _he thought with a shrug as he said his parting words, mounted his nearby horse, and rode away.

Four days later, towards dusk, when it was cooler, Josh presided over the local slave auction. A local slave trader bought most of the older slaves and a good many younger ones to resell. Two smaller traders and resellers bought the rest, along with some of the younger ones to resell. A couple of taverns bought some of the prettier teenaged females. As usual, some questionable taverns purchased a few of the youngest, speculative traders snapping the rest up. In all likelihood, they'd bounce around from master to master and trader to trader for years. For a passing second, Josh felt sorry for the animals, especially the ones sent to the questionable taverns. He shrugged. They were only animals, after all. At least, telling himself that helped. Amy was no animal. She never had been.

* * *

><p>Michaela didn't quite understand what was going on. It was almost night when she'd been put up on a big stage with a big man behind her talking in nonsensically fast Human. People in the crowd had yelled things at points in the big man's rambling. Towards the end, it was just two men who were yelling, each at a different time. Finally, one of them didn't yell. The big man behind her kept on rambling, repeating one thing—human numbers, she realized—'3,200! 3,200!' then something like 'Goin wonce, guin twice... sold!' The big rambling man grabbed her by the fur on the back of her neck, dragged her off the stage and tossed her to a man in bright blue robes. The man in the robes drug her across the ground to a man in plain grey robes—the same man who'd been the last to yell. He picked her up off the ground, wiping the dirt off her and putting a leather necklace around her neck.<p>

The instant the necklace clasped, she felt calmer. Less at edge. She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. Opened them. Closed them. Why did she feel different? Why wasn't she scared? Because her master wouldn't do anything to hurt her, would he? _Wait,_ she thought, _Master?__ It__'__s__ a__ control__ spell!_ She'd heard about them in the scary stories mommy and daddy told her at night. She'd never imagined having one on her. Her master motioned for her to follow him. _Why __not?_ She thought. Master knew best, didn't he? Of course he did. He was her master. From the very depths of her soul, she cursed the thoughts.  
>He led her to a caged cart, where many other Keidran, Fox, Wolf and Dog of all different ages waited. She climbed in it without any of them, master or slave, saying a word. She curled up in the corner, a kindly looking old Fox woman crowding around her, trying her best to take care of her with what she had to work with, which was to say, nothing. Again, neither of them said a word. The faces around her were desolate and forboding. Dead. Empty. Hollow. Much like Michaela presently felt. Her whole life now seemed gone. She was forced to a life of solitude and servitude, with no chance of escape. None. The spell would always suppress her, bind her to doing things she didn't want to.<p>

The floor of the wagon was stiff and cold. The bars of its sides dug into her back. She couldn't seem to find a comfortable place for her tail. For that matter, she couldn't seem to find much of a comfortable place for _any _of her. _I__ really__ hope __this __isn__'__t __any __kind __of __indicator __for __the __rest__ of__ my __life. _In the back of her mind, in the very depths of her soul, she knew it would be. She knew that this was the life she was destined to live. The life of a person not her own, the life of nothing but a piece of property. They weren't pleasant thoughts, but they were the only thoughts she found herself capable of thinking. She wanted to cry. She didn't know if mommy or daddy, or Thomas or Amber or _anyone_ she'd ever known was safe. Were they okay? Maybe they would have as good a master as she did. Master was a great master.

_Will__ the __spell __not __leave __me __alone__ when __I__'__m__ sad?_ She yelled at herself. She wanted to scream and cry and be angry all at the same time. But she said nothing. She did nothing. She did _nothing._She had to do something! She couldn't allow herself to be thrown into slavery without so much as a fight! Suddenly she had a headache. No, everything would be fine, she heard a voice somewhere between her soul and her mind say. You can't escape, it told her. It will be alright. Master is a good master. He won't hurt you. Everything he does is for the best. She sighed, thinking, _at __least__ I__'__ll__ know __the __difference __between __me __and__ the __control__ spell__ now._

Michaela didn't remember or know when she'd fallen asleep, but she knew that she was now very sore and that it was morning. The old Fox mother had curled up around her to keep her warm. She reminded Michaela of her mother. Michaela finally allowed herself to cry. The spell kept telling her that everything would be okay, that master was a great master. She ignored it. That made her head hurt. But she didn't care. She would cry anyway.

* * *

><p><em>The irony of Michaela's story is that she did find joy in her life as a slave, more than she would ever know until she ran into a rather lost Air Force General. And it wasn't because Master was a great master; quite the opposite. Michaela soon developed a good rule for gauging masters; if they let you call them by their name, even if it was only their last name, they would be a good master. If they only let you call them "Master," they would be a terrible master. Michaela learned this as she bounced around from master to master, trader to trader, family to family, for nearly a year. In this time, she discovered that her grim prediction had been right. Her first night as a slave had indeed been a pretty good indication of most of her life. But something changed one day when a family bought her from a trader as a babysitter for their children.<em>

_- Judith Lane  
><em>

* * *

><p>Michaela sighed. She was being sold yet again. She dutifully stood up on the auction block, turned around as the auctioneer told her to do, demonstrated that she was able to speak both Keidran and Human fluently, that she was free of scars or any kind of physical damage; the usual routine. Also par for the course was the fact that no one bided on her. She shrugged it off, she knew she wasn't the prettiest girl up there (what most the taverns were after, though she didn't want to be adopted by a tavern), and she wasn't exactly strong, either. She didn't have much use as a slave, especially not the way that prices had started inflating. No one even met the opening bid and the trader refused to take a lower one; he'd lose money.<p>

Unlike usual, she was taken to a private selling, where the prices were guaranteed to remain the same instead of guaranteed to rise out of proportion as people got more and more into the sensation of bidding. Now she stood on a humble little pedestal instead of the large auction stands. Traders and families wandered through the hall, where many slaves that hadn't sold were. She wasn't surprised when most of them didn't so much as stop in front of her.

One family came through, with the mother and father holding a small baby each and a young boy and even younger girl walking quietly behind them. The father paused briefly in front of Michaela and started to walk on. But the boy stopped him, grabbing at his robes, "no, daddy, I like this one. We should get her."

Master walked over from conferring with another party. "Found the one ye wants?"

"Well, Will sure seems to like her. How old is she? We're looking for a babysitter and she happens to be in our price range. She seems to be the only one as such."

"She's four, almost five," Master said. "Make a fine babysitter, too."

Michaela was actually barely four, but she knew better than to contradict Master—not that the control spell would have allowed her to, anyhow.

"I don't know, honey," the mother said, "She's awful young to be a babysitter."

"Missus, she's plenty old enough. The dogs age faster than we do, mind you."

Michaela winced at that view of her. It was common enough among Humans, she'd found.

"I'm not sure. Four is about what, eight?"

"More like ten, but it's hard to tell 'bout de animals, missus."

Michaela knew Master was lying again. Again, she could do nothing about it and she didn't really care to, either. She really hoped this family would buy her. Maybe they'd be better than Master.

"Well, momma," the oldest boy said, "she's all we've seen we can buy. Let's take a chance."

"Ye should listen to yer kiddy here, sire. She'd be good fer ye."

"Tell you what, knock 200 gold off and we'll bite."

"I gots that much in 'er. 50 off."

"150."

"Aw, you can do better than that, she's a fine 'un."

Amazing how Master's opinion of her changed when he was trying to sell.

"Cut your losses, the market's inflating. 100 off or we walk."

Master stuck his pudgy hand out, "Deal."

There was an exchange of a great deal of gold coins _(Nice __to __know __I__'__m __worth__ something, __anyhow,_ she thought) and Master looked at her, "Well, Michaela, yer there's now. Go on." He made shooing motions as she stepped off the pedestal and silently stood among the crowd of a family. Master walked away, much to Michaela's relief.

She looked to her new owners (not family, as she very much wanted to think) with a look of hope and depression. The man smiled back at her, "I'm John Cooper, this is my wife Korey and my children," he motioned to the oldest (though still not too old) boy, "Will," the older girl, "Anne," the baby he was holding, "Jen," the baby his wife was holding, " and finally, Ben. You can see why we needed a baby sitter."

Michaela nodded.

The woman, _Korey, _Michaela reminded herself, kneeled down to her level and looked her in the eyes. Michaela looked away. The woman gently took hold of her muzzle and ever so gently made Michaela look at her, "Oh, there's no telling what you've been through, you poor girl! You can talk to us, look us in the eyes. We won't hurt you."

"But I don't like looking people in the eyes. It's not natural to me," she squeaked. Maybe they'd let her get by with that.

"Oh! I'm sorry, honey," Korey said and took her hand off Michaela's muzzle, smiling again and standing up.

Perhaps these masters would be more kind to her after all.

"C'mon, y'all," the man said, waving the conglomerate of her new family to follow him, talking his wife's free hand in his free hand. Michaela wondered why he did that. It seemed terribly inconvenient.

Once they were out of the building, John had them all form closely together. He sighed, "This should be complicated."

_What __will __be __complicated?_Michaela asked herself.

Suddenly, she saw a very pure blue surround her, envelop her. Suddenly, she wasn't just outside of a slave warehouse, but in front of a large but homely cottage in the country. Her gaze darted around. What had just happened? Where was she?

She felt a calm, reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. It was just a teleportation spell," Korey's calming voice told her.

Michaela let out a sigh of relief as they started walking. The older boy walked up beside her, "What's your name? I don't think we ever asked. How rude of us."

"It's alright, I'm used to it. I'm Michaela by birth, but I have to tell you that I can call you anything you want."

"Michaela. I like that name," John said. "We wouldn't change your name, anyway."

She nodded and said, barely audible to her sensitive ears, "Thank you."

They all stopped at the door and John waved a hand in front of it, _"__Aperio.__"_ For a brief second, Michaela saw blue lines appear on the door. They disappeared even faster and the door opened.

"Welcome to your new home, Michaela," Korey said as they walked in. Inside, the home looked even bigger than it did on the outside. _Looks__ like __I__ got__ lucky,__after__ all,_she thought, _maybe__ they__'__ll__ keep__ me._

Korey showed Michaela around her new home directly, and introduced her to her chores, though she wouldn't have to do them until the next day. She hadn't been given much to do, either. Taking care of the kids when both Korey and John were gone and cleaning a bit when they were home (the home looked spotless, which made Michaela figure the kids were used to keeping it tidy, anyhow) was about the extent of her chores. She was told that she would probably do the dishes once she was old enough to reach the sink. She got a small laugh out of that one. That finished, she was introduced to her bed, a small straw cot in the room with the older two siblings. She sat on the cot and Korey left. Will came in a few seconds later, while Michaela was looking around the room.

"Hi," he said.

Michaela tried to smile, but failed at it. "Hello."

The two of them stared at each other awkwardly. Will broke out laughing, "Um, yeah, so, how old are you?"

"Four. You?"

"Twelve." He paused. "I'm older than you. A lot older than you. How are you my babysitter?"

"Keidran age faster than humans."

"I know. Even still, you're younger than me."

"I won't be in about three months."

Will conceited on that, "Point made."

"Until then, though," she said with a toothy grin—not that she was capable of any other kind of grin, anyway, "I suppose you'll just have to make the best of it."

He raised an eyebrow, "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said," she said and stuck out her canine tongue."

"What are you going to do, lick me?" he asked mockingly.

"Don't tempt me."

Will paused for a second in thought, "We're going to end up being typical brothers and sisters, aren't we?"

Michaela laughed, "Yeah, probably." She had no idea how wrong she'd become.

Korey entered the room just as Michaela had finished that comment, "Ah, there you two are. Getting acquainted, are we? Good. Now, it's almost supper time, so I have some things to show you, Michaela."

Korey lead Michaela downstairs, where she helped Korey set the table, which was quite the learning experience for the little Keidran. Korey told her that it would become one of her duties once she'd learned how to do so at all three meals. _Humans eat three meals a day? _Michaela thought. That was interesting. She'd always only had two meals a day, if that. But the table was set, and she was put at the end of the table, the farthest away from the head of the table, beside the youngest daughter who could feed herself (the little girl's name escaped her mind). Michaela didn't know much about Human dining customs, but she did know that that was the position of least respect along the square table. As nice as the Coopers were, they were still humans (_at least they let me eat with them, that's a very rare thing, _she thought). And she was still just a Keidran, whether she liked it or not. The children kept silent during the conversation, at least until Korey brought up something about which they were allowed to speak, "Will, when is that Templar Youth hike and campout you're going on?"

"Umm, the 25th, I think," he responded, sounding very uncertain indeed.

"Dear, don't worry about it," John said, "we already hired a babysitter, remember?"

"Exactly," Korey said and pointed at Michaela. "We need to cancel her services."

"We can't, 'least not without still paying for it," John said. "Less than a week's notice; she has to come out here on horseback, mind you."

Korey sighed, "Well, problem is that I have a meeting with the committee that day and you have a mission..."

"I'm aware," John said.

Will looked at the two grown-ups with what Michaela thought was hopefulness.

"Do you want to say something, Will?" Korey asked, seeing the look.

"Well, can she come with me? I just think that would be awesome."

John and Korey exchanged mixed glances. "Well, I don't see why on Mekkan not," Korey said, "It would be a wonderful chance for the two of you to bond. That's necessary for a good babysitter."

Will grinned from ear to ear. John didn't seem nearly so happy, but he didn't say anything or make any state tents to contradict Korey. Michaela finished picking all the meat from around the vegetables and wiped her hands and muzzle on the white cloth she'd seen the rest using for the same purposes. She then knitted her fingers and waited on the others to finish so she could be dismissed and, no doubt, help Korey wash the dishes up. But she, of course, could get no peace. Korey looked at her, "Michaela, dear, aren't you going to eat your vegetables?"

Fortunately, John saved her before she could say anything foolish, "Korey, honey, Keidran can't eat plants. She probably doesn't even know what they are."

Michaela, from her experience in other human homes, knew what they were and also knew that they would make her very sick if she ate them. So she kept quiet, knitted her furred fingers and waited for the humans to finish. With Korey and John having to feed the youngest before they fed themselves, it took quite some time for them to finish, time well after the other children had eaten and left. But Michaela still sat patiently. It seemed to take them a while to realize this, but when they did, Korey remarked, "Wow, aren't you simply wonderful, darling? So patient and waiting on me to tell you what to do! Tell you what, since you're so good, run along and play with the kids, keep an eye on them, now, you hear? I'll show you how to wash dishes tomorrow morning after breakfast."

Michaela nodded, "Thank you, ma'am," silently got up, taking her plate to the kitchen, and went to find the kids.

* * *

><p>"Mom, we don't have a sleeping bag for Michaela," Will told Korey.<p>

"Just get her two blankets, she's a Keidran, she's tough, right?" Korey asked, rubbing Michaela with something resembling affection as she finished the sentence.

Michaela simply nodded. She doubted her shyness around humans would go away anytime soon.

"Okay, mom," he reluctantly sighed, and threw two blankets into the small pack she would be carrying. She had decided not to tell Will how badly it would chaff her fur; she didn't want him carrying her stuff along with his (his pack looked heavy enough as it was). She considered offering to take part of the tent for him, but refrained. If he asked, she would take it. If not, his loss, her gain.

It seemed like no time at all before she was plodding along a trail through a forest somewhere in the Northeast of the Human Empire. Michaela thought it ironic that they'd teleported out to the location, and then proceeded to hike for miles. In reality, why wouldn't they have just teleported all the way? She expressed this to Will as they walked seemingly endless distances.

He shrugged. "Beats me. All I know is that I need to hike five miles to get my First Class. That's all I care about."

"Do you mind if I speak freely?" she asked timidly.

"Not at all. Tell that control spell that you can always speak freely to me," he said with a warm and friendly smile.

She nodded, "Thank you. I'll remember that. I'll make sure the control spell does, too." Sometimes the spell seemed like another person living in her body, with a will totally separate her own. "And, then, why am _I _here? I'm just a Keidran slave. I can tell that your masters, if that's what you call them, are not too happy about my presence."

"Close enough to what we call them, yes, and well, quite frankly, I wanted you to come, I figured you'd like it."

Michaela smiled, suppressing a tear that wanted to form in her eye, "Thank you. I've… I've never had anyone do anything so nice for me before."

Will smiled, "It's the least I could do. I figured it'd do you some good to see the outside world before you got stuck in that house."

Michaela grimaced, "I've seen the outside world. I wasn't born a slave, you know. I was taken from my home about a year ago to be a slave."

Will looked to his steadily moving feet and sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't get it. The adults tell me that you're all just Keidran, that you're animals and it actually helps you to put you into slavery. It civilizes you, makes you better. I don't see that you need any civilization. You seem perfectly normal to me."

"It's the spell," Michaela said. "It suppresses my instincts."

Neither Michaela nor Will knew that it was in fact the Templar towers—the ones erected under Trace Legacy's rule—that were suppressing her instincts, not the control spell. Both worked together to make Keidran under their influence far more docile.

"I have trouble believing that completely," Will said. "It can't change you completely."

"Perhaps not," Michaela said. "I don't know. I barely remember my time in Keidran territory. Any change could be because I'm older. Heck if I know," she muttered and kicked at a loose stone bemusedly.

Will appeared to attempt a shrug, but his pack rather suppressed it. That reminded Michaela just how much hair her own smaller pack was ripping from her shoulders. Not a pleasant thought. Not a pleasant feeling, either. There were still about two and a half miles left. That meant…

"Alright, youth!" One of the masters yelled, "Time for lunch, take off your packs and take a rest, you hear?"

He needed not tell any of them twice. Michaela and Will found a nice, soft spot of ground and dropped their packs. That was a relief for the tired Keidran. She sighed.

Will busily dug their lunch out of his pack as Michaela plunked down on the moss-covered forest ground. He handed her a brown paper bag from which the aroma of highly salted pork emanated. She opened it slowly, letting the aroma sink in before she ate.

Will pulled his own bag out right as Michaela sunk her teeth into the chunk of meat. He turned around and sat down, facing her. He paused, "Your shoulders are raw. The pack pulled your hair out, didn't it? Why didn't you tell me?"

Michaela swallowed the pork she'd wolfed (foxed?) down. "I didn't want you to carry anything else. That pack looks heavy enough."

He stared at her blankly, "Michaela, I can handle it. Your shoulders can't. I'll take your pack for the rest of the way."

"You'll do no such thing," she said, trying to sound just as stubborn as she could.

"I will take that pack from you by force," he said, sounding far more stubborn that she could ever dream of being.

She reluctantly handed him the pack before he _did _try taking it by force. That done, she continued chowing down on the delicious salty, meaty, red, raw pork. Will ate a disgusting-looking compilation of bread, cheese and pork cooked until it was almost black (she'd heard it called something like _bakon sandwitch_). She shivered at the thought of good pork so wasted by cooking it that much. The thought of _bakon _almost made her real raw pork taste bad. Almost, but not quite. She finished the pork and regretfully stood up on her raw and sore paws. She walked to the stream and drank from it, washing her hands at the same time. She sat back down with Will, who was still eating. He handed her something else from his pack. It was seasoned beef, she could tell by the smell, but it was rigid and cooked. She stared at it blankly.

"Beef jerky," he provided.

Michaela nodded and took a small bite. She coughed violently. By the gods, the stuff was hot! She ran to the stream and took handfuls of water up. She also dipped the vile stuff in the stream and rubbed the spices off of it. She returned to where Will was sitting and sat again. "Keidran are rather sensitive to spices," she said. "We never use any except salt."

"Oh," he said shortly, looking at her quite blankly. He grimaced, "Sorry. I had no idea."

"It's alright," she said and took another bite of it, undaunted.

He looked at her shocked. "I thought..?"

She grinned, "I can be tough when I'm expecting it."

He looked at her quite impressed for a few seconds. "You washed it in the stream, didn't you?"

She laughed, "Yep."

"You had me," he said, pointing at her accusingly.

She grinned and took another bite. It wasn't the best meat, tough, now kind of watery, but she was hungry and it _was_ meat. There was a somewhat awkward silence. Michaela looked around. "Have I scared off all your friends?"

Will chuckled sarcastically, "Huh. What friends?"

Michaela raised an eyebrow and an attentive ear, waiting for him to go on.

"I don't have many friends in my troop. I don't have many friends… Well, anywhere."

"Why not?"

He shrugged and looked away, avoiding her concerned look. He finally looked back at her, meeting her eyes for a second and then hanging his head. "I… Don't know. It's always been that way. It's funny. I'm well-rounded enough that I can talk to just about anybody about one thing or the other… And yet I still find myself feeling like an outsider. People seem more happy to use me than to talk to me."

Michaela gently raised a clawed hand and pulled his chin up, making him face her, "I'm sorry I brought it up… If I would have known…"

He gently swatted her hand away and met her eyes, held them, "Don't apologize. You didn't know, and, honestly, it's a relief to talk about it."

Michaela nodded and made a point to avoid his eyes. That wasn't natural to her. She knew that eye contact was a gesture of respect for humans. It was an aggressive gesture for Keidran. "What did you mean, that people use you?"

He grinned, "I'm very good at magic. _Very _good. I got that from my father, I suppose. So when people have a problem at school with a spell or their homework, they always come to me."

"Well, that just means you're good and they trust you," Michaela said, slightly confused. That was good, wasn't it?

He nodded grimly, "Problem is, that's all these people ever talk to me about, that's the only time I see them, when they have a problem they need help with. I have only one or two friends that aren't that way."

Michaela nodded, "I'm sorry… I know that has to feel terrible, but at least remember that _you _have those qualities. You're better than they are and that's why they need to come to you."

He shrugged, "Some consolation, I guess. Not that it matters; I got it better than a lot of people."

Michaela nodded and let herself smile just a bit, "That's a good attitude to have."

He shrugged and ate the last of his beef jerky, "Keeps me going, at any rate." Not giving her time to reply, Will stood up and started putting on his backpack, seconds before the Master called for the boys to get a move on. "Can you tell I done this a few times?" He asked her with a crooked smile.

She nodded, "Yeah, it's pretty obvious."

He offered her two hands to help her stand up. She took them and let him pick her up off the cold ground. _Courtesy,_ she thought, _rare__ for__ a __human.__ Poor, __poor, __naïve __boy._She suspected that was the reason he was so nice to her. He didn't yet understand how inferior she was to him. Perhaps it was because he had been treated so badly by the other humans. _Maybe __he __thinks __he's__ as __inferior __as __I__ am __because__ of __that._She suppressed a laugh to herself, _I__ feel __sorry __for __him, __thinking __that__ he's __as __low __as __a __stupid__ Keidran.__Naïve __indeed._

Will snapped fingers in front of her face, "You coming or not?"

She shook her head slightly and blinked rapidly, "Right, sorry, yeah, coming." They both started walking. Her back and, more importantly, her shoulders, were much happier not to be laden with a pack. Perhaps her shoulders would be better healed by the time they started on the way back. When were they headed back, speaking of? She asked Will this.

"The 28th. Four days, three nights."

Her eyes went wide, her mouth dropped open and her large fox-like ears fell in astonishment. Even her tail went lax. "What all are we doing?"

"The first and last day are mostly just hiking, if you haven't figured it out yet. The first day's gonna be merit badge classes. The second, the older boys will teach us a lot of outdoor skills."

"I thought you were an older boy?"

"No," he said, "Not until I get my" - he said an unfamiliar Human word - "rank."

"Oh. But you've done this before?" Michaela was again confused"

"Yes, in Templar" - another unfamiliar word - "The Templar Youth have separate ranks and badges."

Michaela but nodded.

Will chuckled, "Don't dwell on it. It's nothing important."

Michaela giggled, "Don't worry, I never planned on it."

Will nodded. "Good girl." The remark stung for the moment before she realized he'd stuck his tongue out at her - a Human gesture of amiability.

Seeing that, she rolled her eyes and kept walking. She was constantly walking, it seemed. _I__ suppose__ it __is __a__ hike__ for __a __reason,__isn't __it?_ Her paws still hurt. She could only imagine how Will's feet, laden with probably fifty kilos of weight, felt. Not to mention, they were encapsulated within those terribly uncomfortable-looking things humans called _shews_. Why _did_ they wear the things? Going barepaw had to be better than walking on wood. No matter; his loss, not hers. So they kept walking, walking and talking for what seemed an eternity. But they did finally make it to their campsite, a little plateau on the side of a mountain. It was a nice enough place, a little cold for Michaela's liking, but very nice. Flat with very few trees and grass too low for predators to hide in. Will picked the place for their tent, a little spot of high ground in the middle of the plateau, closer to the far edge. Will picked it because it was flat, but still raised high enough for water not to flood it and close to the stream that ran by the edge of the outcropping. Michaela was satisfied with his reasoning and placement and didn't protest (not that she would have anyhow).

And then they began the process of setting the tent up. For Michaela, who was inexperienced, it was some kind of monster to set up. Will told her it was one of the easier ones. She wasn't sure if she should have believed him or not. There were two poles that had to be set up at just the right angle and six ropes to be tied off. Ten stakes had to be hammered into the rough ground. Despite all the trouble, they finally did get it set up. That done, he put their stuff in it and told her not to lay her blankets out yet or some creature would cozy up in them. Michaela didn't think that that would be too nice, so she left the blankets and pillow neatly bundled.

It was almost dark by that time. It got dark rather fast, the sun setting early behind the mountain to the west of them. The boys all huddled around the campfire. She and Will sat on a tall stump behind and separate from all the other boys. She noted that Will was very much separated from the rest of the boys by some unspoken words. Michaela had to wonder if that was a product of her being there or if that invisible, unspoken and unbroken barrier was present nonetheless.

The masters started telling ghost stories, as was rather to be expected of them. The first two stories were about Keidran killing humans. Will leaned over to whisper in Michaela's ear, "I'm tired of this bull. I'm tired, too. Let's head to the tent."

_He__ really__ doesn__'__t __realize __how __terrible __we__ are,__does __he?_Michaela thought and followed him to their tent, a good fifty meters from the campfire. They weren't the first persons to leave the campfire, many of the youth who'd only just joined had been to bed long ago. Michaela shivered as they walked. It had been a little cold when they got there. It was freezing cold now that the sun no longer shone above them. They entered the tent. Michaela unrolled the blankets and set the pillow down at the head of it, fluffing it up.

Will unrolled his sleeping bag and crawled in it, facing the opposite way of Michaela, his feet next to her head. "You might want to flip around," he said. "You always want your head going uphill or you'll get heartburn."

Michaela nodded to the darkness and moved herself and the pillow. She turned her head to the side and looked at Will. He smiled and rolled over, "'Night, Michaela. If you're as tired as I think you are, you'll sleep well."

"You're probably right," she said and tossed around, trying to get comfortable. She finally did find a comfortable spot, but shivered with cold. She wondered why her fur wasn't keeping her warm. _Figures.__ The__ one__ time__ I__ want __the __stuff,__ it__ doesn__'__t __do __what __I__ want __it __to __do,_she thought as she shifted around some more, trying to get warmer. She felt bad for moving around so much, it had to be keeping Will up, but she couldn't help it. The blanket wasn't warm enough, and it kept coming up, leaving her paws bare and even colder. Then she had to sit up and fix the cover, lay back down and try to go to sleep. It usually moved again a few minutes later.

After what seemed like an eternity, Will rolled over to face her, "I take it you can't sleep either?"

"Yeah," she said, "cold."

"Me, too."

"I'm thinking about putting the blanket that's under me over me."

"No," he said, "the ground is very cold. That'll only make you colder."

"Oh," she muttered.

"At least you _can_ shift the covers to get warmer."

Michaela didn't respond.

"Tell you what," Will said, "Give me the blankets and I'll put them in my sleeping bag."

The control spell made her do it, no matter how much she didn't want to. _I__ guess__ I__ was __wrong __about __him,__ after __all,_she thought as she begrudgingly gave him the blankets. He climbed out of the sleeping bag and arranged the blankets in it. He climbed back into it. Michaela stared at him remorsefully.

"Well, don't just stand there," he said, "get in. It's the only way I can think of to keep us both warm."

_No,__ I __was __perfectly __right __about __him, __after __all, _she thought with a smile. The sleeping bag was incredibly warm. Michaela was asleep in no time.


	2. Chapter II

_Michaela and Will were yet too young to understand the implications of their actions. They didn't know why a friendship between a Keidran and a human would be bad or unacceptable. They didn't understand what a girl and a boy sleeping in the same cramped sleeping bag meant. But they did it anyway, the ignorance and energy of their youth allowing them to escape the hate and traditional confines of the world they lived in. It was a beautiful thing._

* * *

><p>Will felt something warm in his arms and against his bare chest. Something soft. Something furry. As his brain warmed up, he realized that the warm and fuzzy thing was, in fact, Michaela. She was wrapped in his arms, facing away from him. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to wake or not. He'd love to talk to her some more. She truly was a fascinating character. But she was warm and comfy as she was, and he feared that she might not like where she was, that she would want to move, if she woke. What time was it, anyhow? Had Will awoke at dawn? No, there were no voices in the campsite. The fire was not crackling. Birds were not chirping, but instead the creatures of the night. Judging by some of the air leaking onto his bare back, which wasn't far from one of the bag's seams, it was still cold out, too. The air was merely a trickle when compared with the seemingly sun-like radiating warmth Michaela gave him.<p>

Even though Will hadn't decided whether he wanted Michaela to wake up or not, she did. She stirred for a second before realizing that she was inside Will's arms. Will hastily moved to untangle her from his arms.

"No, no," she said groggily, "they're warm."

Will froze, letting his arms fall back into the comfortable place they had held around the Kiedran. He realized how small she was. She felt frail in his arms (which weren't that far from frail, either).

"Okay," he whispered back, "I just didn't want to make you feel awkward."

"No," she said, lowering her voice. "Keidran instinctually like warm things. You're warm."

Will chuckled quietly, "I don't like them instinctually, but I do happen to like them."

Michaela yawned, "That's good with me. Say, what time is it?"

"I don't know. I can't see outside and my watch is outside the sleeping bag."

"Oh, that's fine, I was just wondering."

"I'll check, shouldn't take long."

Will unwrapped Michaela from his arms and reached up, untying the knot in the top of the bag. He slipped his hand outside. Bloody hell was it cold out there. He felt around, searching for the wristwatch. No such luck, either. He opened the end of the sleeping bag some more and pulled his head out. Bloody _hell _was it _cold. _He looked around. There it was. He grabbed it and retracted back into the sleeping back like some kind of cave-dwelling dragon. Heck, even the freaking watch was cold out there. He pulled the cord on the sleeping bag taught and tied a slip knot in it. He opened his watch. The whole face glowed blue from embedded manna crystals.

"A little before three," he said, placing the watch into a small compartment in the side of the bag.

"Oh, what time do we have to wake up?"

"We're already awake," he commented with a poke to her ribs. She squirmed. He again wrapped his arms around her. She shifted around a bit.

"What time do we have to _get_ up, then?"

There was another unfamiliar Human word –"is at 7:00."

"Okay," she yawned.

The yawn, apparently contagious, spread over to Will's maw as well. "You plan to go to sleep, I see?"

"Yeah, I had," she said smartly, poking him in the ribs. He, too, squirmed. She poked him multiple times. He squirmed more each successive time. He pointed an accusing finger at her, waving it slightly.

"Stop that. Save it for tomorrow. I'm tired."

"Fine, fine," she said with another yawn and shifted around again. Will didn't think it was long before they were both asleep again.

* * *

><p>Michaela breathed sharply in. Her eyes shot open. She realized that she was kicking and attempting to flail her arms. Will held her incredibly tight, almost suffocating her with his arms.<p>

She panted. Blinked rapidly. She'd dreamed that… No, she didn't want to think about that any more. Only her dreams brought that back… Or her nightmares, at any rate.

"You okay?" Will asked, "You were whimpering and trying to run and fight something. You almost tore my bag."

"Yeah," she muttered, "I'm fine. I just had a bad dream, that's all."

Will nodded. He seemed happy with leaving it at that. Good, it was better that he did. She shivered, trying to shake the cold of the terrible dream away from her.

"Cold?" Will asked.

"Little," she replied slowly. "I think it was... just the dream..."

Will raised an eyebrow. That was when she realized that she had twisted in his arms, now facing him. He had scratches on his chest from her claws.

She gasped, "Did I do that?"

Will grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, you did. Its fine. Can I ask what that dream was about?"

"About an old master. He beat me for sport..." she shivered.

Will held her tighter, "I'm sorry. It's over now, I promise."

"Yeah," she muttered, "yeah."

He gently rubbed her back, which arched itself. She heard a pleased growl emit from her throat. It was the closest thing a Fox had to a Cat's purr. Will grinned, "I take it that feels good?"

"A little," she grinned sheepishly.

Will smiled warmly, stopping. He looked her in the eyes, something Michaela wasn't very comfortable with. Keidran took that as a sign of aggression. She knew that wasnt how Humans saw it, but she still didn't like it. Maybe she would adjust to it eventually. "We're going to have to go out soon. We better get ready."

"What do we have to get ready?"

He glanced at her bare fur, "Right. Well, _I_ have to get dressed."

He began to unwrap her from his arms and climb out of the bag. Of themselves, her arms shot out and grabbed him, "Nya!"

"Michaela, now, I have to go." Michaela found that she couldn't let go. She found that she couldn't say anything, either.

Or perhaps she could, as she started in a long strain of pleading, begging Keidran- a language she thought she'd forgotten after a year of living among Humans.

Will froze. Moved back down into the sleeping bag. "Okay, I might be able to hold off a little bit, but we're going to have to leave soon. What's wrong?"

"I... I don't know," she admitted. "It was... instinct. I can't stand to have you leave me... you're the only person nice to me..."

Will looked at her with… Was that empathy? Pity? Michaela wasn't quite sure. "Well, then, come _with _me, then.

"But I don't want to get up," she grumbled with a sheepish smile.

He looked at her blankly and started to get out again. Michaela reluctantly followed.

By the time she'd wormed out of the bag (what kind of infernal contraption was this thing?), Will already had his shirt on and was fitting his foot coverings—_Shews? Shrews? _Michaela made a mental note that she really needed to learn the proper word for those things. Another time, another place. For now, the two of them went out of the tent, discovering that they weren't quite the first up, but they were among the first, something Will seemed to take some small pride in. They sat around the fire-which was being brought back to life after the night's neglect of it.

Michaela huddled close to the fire as it grew, trying to shake off the morning cold. She noticed that Will rolled his eyes and returned to the tent for a minute. He emerged with a coat, which he handed her, saying "Use this and move away from the fire, you're going to singe your fur."

She grinned sheepishly as she wrapped up in the coat and sat on log that was still relatively close to the fire. The coat smelled like Will—the same smell that had been wrapped around her only a few minutes earlier. Deep within her, Michaela missed that encompassing feeling. She buried that longing. It was foolish. Childish. Primitive. It was instinct, nothing more.

She sighed. Sometimes, she just wanted to slip into that primeval world, hold on to nothing but bare instinct. She could never be let down in that world. Never abused, punished, restrained.

Alas, she'd also heard that going feral wasn't a pleasant experience, and she didn't want to find out by experiment, but it was a pleasant thought at times. It was something to toy with, something to knock back the cruelty of the world with.

Of course—she eyed Will discreetly—he'd helped a lot. He'd shown her… Things she'd never seen from a Human before. Things that she'd never seen from her own kind, either. She let out a contented sigh. She was stuck with him until she died or John and Korey sold her, whichever came first. That was a good thing. Just from her first week, she could tell that the Cooper household wouldn't be nearly so bad as the slavetraders to whom she was merely a piece of property—a piece of property that was rapidly declining in value. Several of the traders had taken out their anger at that fact on her. She shrugged. At least John hadn't bought her for her resell value. The fact that she'd been bought for _her, _and not for her profit was actually a wonderful feeling in and of itself.

Will snapped his fingers—a Keidran would have clicked their claws—in front of her. "Hello, you there?"

She shook her head. "Yeah, yeah. Here."

"C'mon, time to eat, then," he said, handing her a plate.

"Oh, oh, thank you, yeah," she said, trying to bring her brain back under her own command again, taking the plate and standing up, getting in line with—and behind most of—the rest of the troop. Michaela's sensitive ears heard the other Youth making jeers at her and Will, and especially their closeness. She shrugged and hoped that Will couldn't hear them; he'd probably reject them.

"Ignore them," Will whispered at a volume he knew only she could hear. "I'm not their biggest fans, either."

That made Michaela giggle a bit.

They went through the line, getting a plateful of bacon and scrambled eggs. They were both pretty good to Michaela.

Some of the other boys did sit around and talk with Will. They talked about their merit badges and ranks, mostly. Will seemed to be—no, was—the highest ranked of them. _He hangs out with the younger kids. Weird. _No wonder the older boys picked on him. The younger boys seemed to idolize him, nonetheless. She also noticed an older boy picking on some of the younger ones, just for being younger. Michaela nodded to herself. _Will treats them equally. No wonder they like him. _So Will's good treatment wasn't exclusive to her, after all. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It said something about his character, if nothing else. _Something good about it._

She noted that the boys—Will included—were now talking about the slave market. They all seemed very apt and up-to-date on it—Michaela would know all about that particular section of the economy in intimate detail.

"Yeah," one of the boys was saying, "pa says that the market's going downhill."

"No, my pa says it's goin' up."

Michaela decided to step in, "It's _inflating. _The prices of slaves are going up, but their value is going down. There's too many of us on the market and too much is being charged for us. That means that prices are collapsing."

They all—Will included—looked at her, seemingly stupefied.

"I've been owned by slave traders my whole life. I know a thing or two about the market," she said with a shrug. They could take it or leave it.

One of the boys nodded. "That makes sense." He looked to Will, "Strong-willed, ain't she?"

Will shrugged, "Don't bother me."

"Say, what's she doin' here, anyhow, Will?"

"Long story. Momma said something about us 'bonding,' whatever the hell that means."

Michaela couldn't tell if he was being serious or if he was avoiding a touchy subject.

Nonetheless, the other boys laughed. "Sounds like your mother," one remarked.

Walking back to the tent, Michaela muttered to him, "You must talk down to your mother a lot at this place."

He nodded.

"You shouldn't," she said, "Your mother's a nice woman."

He nodded, "I know. Darn good momma."

Michaela raised a questioning eyebrow and half-raised an ear.

"You don't talk your parents down and you won't last long at this place. How do you think I fell out of favor with the older boys?"

That effectively closed the debate.

In the tent, Will re-assembled the collection of pots and pans that he called a _mess kit._ He dug through his bag while Michaela sat bored on their sleeping bag. Will looked at her and sighed, clearly trying to say something, but not finding the right words. He finally found them, "Michaela, could you step outside?"

She looked at him in confusion, "Why?"

"I have to change clothes," he said, as if that settled something.

She continued to look at him in confusion.

"It's embarrassing for humans."

She didn't change the look she was giving him.

"Could you at least turn your back then?"

Michaela sighed and did so. She heard a rustling of fabric behind her as he changed his wrappings, things Michaela didn't see a real point to. She shrugged and waited for him to tell her that she could turn around. When she did, he was buttoning the last of his robes. The things seemed to be more complicated than they were worth—Michaela couldn't see that there was any worth to them at all, especially with all the fuss that the things took. She shrugged, none of her business, she supposed.

It became her business. Will thrust a white throw-over smock-like garment with the Templar logo on it in her face. "Save us both some trouble, wear this."

Michaela rolled her eyes and dutifully did so.

They proceeded out of the tent, to an assembly area in front of a blue and white banner emblazoned with the Templar logo. Will showed her how to stand at _attention _as all the boys lined up in perfect formation, Michaela in with the best of them.

The Headmaster passed over them, looking over all the boys with a wary eye. He looked Michaela over with an especially wary eye, but passed on without a word to either her or Will. That seemed to be a gracious act. He fussed heartily at several kids whose uniforms were out of order. Thankfully, Michaela didn't have much of a uniform to get out of order.

He finished going through the ranks of the Youth and went back to the front of the lines. "Alright, then boys, today we're going to be working on some magic. Break up into patrols and I'll direct you individually."

All the boys nodded. They went into groups that all the boys seemed to be thoroughly familiar with. The boys in Will's group all cut up and laughed about things that, quite frankly, weren't very funny to Michaela. When the Headmaster showed up, though, they were all instantly serious.

The older man looked the group over with what seemed to be his usual inspection. He nodded, "Okay, boys, I'm going to give you a special task since you have a special guest," he nodded to Michaela. "Keidran cannot use manna out of the ground, like we Humans can. Instead, they rely on manna crystals. Manna crystals form when manna is concentrated and kept still; it condenses. This can happen naturally, but Humans can recreate the effect. Your task will be to form manna crystals. If they're good, our slave here will be able to use them. If not, well, she won't be able to. You'll find instructions on page… hundred and something… of your handbook. You all are smart, you can find it."

Will flipped straight to it without the least bit of trouble. Creating the crystals, however, he seemed to have more trouble with. All the boys did, actually. Michaela briefly considered asking for the page so she could read it and see what she could do. It was about then that she remembered that she couldn't read Human. That in mind, she sat down and crossed her legs, waiting as patiently as she could manage. Time was precious to Keidran. By nature, they had a hard time waiting. It wasn't in their blood.

* * *

><p><em>Perhaps the most incredible thing about the growing relationship (not courtship, mind you) between Will and Michaela was that neither of them understood how fundamentally different they were, not only in their biology, but also in their personality; their very souls, the things that made them who they really were. Will was a patient, slow and conservative boy, a logical thinker. Michaela was impatient, quick to think and react, she decided not by logic, but instinct. Instinct had driven her past. She'd always had to rely on her instinct to stay alive as a slave. It was their past that separated them… Or, that should have separated them. They couldn't stay apart any longer. Their destinies had been intertwined. They would never be far from each other, not until they left this world and parted ways as they made their way to the other side.<em>

* * *

><p>Will stared at his Templar Youth handbook in confusion. They were supposed to be making manna crystals. It wasn't happening. According to the handbook, if he clamped his cupped hands together like so and funneled manna into them, a crystal should have formed.<p>

Perhaps if his hands were cupped less? Ouch, ouch, ouch, no. The manna was compressed, alright, but it didn't condense, it instead combusted. Which hurt. On the bright side, he'd learned the principles for a basic fire spell.

What if he was slower with it? Natural crystals formed over years of heat and pressure, didn't they? He left his hands barely cupped and slowly, cautiously, moved the manna through him, pulling it from the ground and letting it flow through natural channels in his body, slowly letting it fill his cupped hands. His hands got very hot. He pushed them together gently. His face lit up when he realized that they had clamped down on a solid object. He pulled the excess manna out of his hands and let them come apart. Indeed, there sat a blue glowing crystal.

"What?" one of the boys said, though Will didn't catch which.

"Will got one!" another said with excitement.

Will grinned proudly. "Well, Michaela, give it a shot," he said, handing his newly made crystal to the little Fox Keidran.

She stared at it in bewilderment. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Use it," Billy said.

"How?" Michaela asked timidly.

"Billy, it's illegal to teach slaves magic," Will said. "She doesn't know what it is or how to use it. Michaela, try and pull it into you and channel it around." Technically, that should have been far above her skill level, as she'd never tried it before. Will couldn't remember how long it'd been before he'd been able to feely move manna around his body. Michaela closed her eyes and the crystal glowed more brightly for a second, and then seemed to melt into her hands. She moved her arms around fluidly, clearly moving the manna around. She then let it flow out of her claws, where it fell back to the ground and returned to its home.

"How did you do that?" Billy asked in shock

Michaela shrugged, "I just… did it."

The boys nodded and got back to work. Will sat down and leaned up against a tree; he was done with the task. The other boys got back to work. Bill made a crystal… Sorta. It shattered in Michaela's hand instead of dissolving. When it hit the ground, it absolutely disintegrated.

Billy shrugged and got back onto creating another. His second worked flawlessly.

Michaela sat down beside Will, sighing.

"Bored?" he asked.

"A bit."

He shrugged and chuckled, "Yeah, well, welcome to the club."

They both laughed. Will held his hands together again and made another crystal, handing it to her. He made another and handed it to her, too. "Here," he said, "these are for you to keep and use however you want."

She clearly started to say something, but refrained and took the crystals, putting them in the smock's singular pocket. Will smiled and nodded to her.

Will couldn't remember how many boys finished their crystals at exactly that moment, but Michaela had to test all of them. All were good crystals that Michaela had no trouble using. By about the fourth one, she was able to make a whip out of the manna and slash a tree. _She's good, _Will thought. _She's learning faster than anyone I've ever seen. _Will had heard that that was a mark of intelligence, not just skill. Michaela definitely seemed to have a bit of both.

Another boy finished his second crystal right about then. Michaela stood up to try it. It had no sooner landed in her hand than they all heard a growl in the woods.

* * *

><p>Michaela may have had the sharpest senses of the group, but she heard the bear growl at the same time as they all did.<p>

"Ohhh, that's _not_ good," Will said with a groan. The bear appeared at the edge of the woods. "Run," he said flatly. Michaela was stunned by how he sounded both very calm and very urgent at the same time.

The boys did, indeed, run. Michaela knew that it was impossible to outrun a bear. She didn't know how, but she knew, somewhere deep inside her. That established, she hoped to the gods that the kid's second crystal had formed right. It dissolved into her hands perfectly. She grinned and formed a whip out of manna, hoping that it would deter the bear. She slashed at it, smacking and slicing the bear squarely in the side of its jaw.

Unfortunately, all it did was piss the bear off. A lot. And the whip fell apart.

Michaela started to curse, but she was cut off by some kind of change in herself. She felt her senses sharpen even farther. Her ears laid down. Her vision was suddenly crystal clear, but with an almost… Yellow twinge to it. She realized that she was on all fours, with her hands spread wide and the claws out. It was about then that she figured out that she had slipped into a feral state. She felt as though she wasn't living out the events that were happening to her, but watching a play, watching them being acted out.

She watched a little Fox Keidran, almost a baby, fight with a pissed off mother bear. The bear swiped for the little Fox, an enormously powerful clawed mass moving to extinguish another life. The Keidran dodged, jumping over the paw and sinking its tiny claws into the massive arm attached to the massive paw.

Michaela saw Will run up, summoning fire in his hands. The Keidran seemed to ignore him. The littler of the two animals jumped, using its dug-in claws for a large leap onto the black mass of the bear's back. Fire appeared in Will's hands, and he propelled it at the bear.

The Fox slashed the bear's throat, near where Will had burned it. Michaela wasn't sure if the Keidran slashed there on purpose or not. The bear bucked, throwing the little animal off its back, despite the claws the Fox had dug into its back.

The little Fox wasn't shaken by the hit. It was back into an all-fours stance, its mouth open and growling, snarling fiercely. The bear, however, was running from Will, whose hands were both on fire.

The only snarling animal left shook its head and breathed sharply in. Michaela stood up, rubbing her head. "Did I just..?" She looked at the blood on her claws. Yep. She'd done it. She realized that she was panting and extremely tired. She collapsed against a tree, breathing shuttering breaths. Her whole body seemed ready to collapse on itself.

Will ran over to her, "Michaela! Michaela! Are you alright?"

"Y… Ye… Yeah… Okay… Okay… I'm okay…" She managed to shutter.

"No, you're not, shock's a terrible thing, ain't it?"

Michaela had no idea what shock was, so she didn't answer.

"Can you walk? We need to get out of here."

Michaela struggled to get up, but failed.

Will picked her up, holding her in his arms. Michaela could tell that it was a struggle for him, but he carried her all the way out of the woods anyway. He kept right on carrying her beyond the woods and to the edge of their campsite, setting her down incredibly gently. Once he'd accomplished that, it was his turn to collapse.

The headmaster walked up. "You two look like you just fought off a hungry bear!"

Despite their tiredness, they both had strength to join Will's patrol in fits of laughter.

* * *

><p>All the boys in Will's patrol goofed off in the large creek below the plateau. Normally, they would have shamelessly gone nude. With Michaela in there, however, they, for some reason, wore shorts. Will thought it ironic; Michaela didn't wear clothes. Didn't want clothes. Didn't understand clothes. Will shrugged off the irony and got back to splashing Billy. The cool off time the boys enjoyed in the creek was an odd cross of bath and fun. After going through shock fighting the bear, it was, in good part, relaxation time for all of them, too. That fact was made evident when all the boys settled down and sat on the sandy smooth bottom of the creek. That never happened. Michaela was perched on a rock, licking herself clean.<p>

"I didn't think you was a Cat, Michaela," Billy said when he saw her.

"I'm a Fox, not a Dog, Billy," she said matter-of-factly. "Licking for a bath isn't something we enjoy doing, but we do it when we have to."

Billy shrugged and sank further into the water.

The day had been pretty warm, as it usually was. Also as usual, the night was about to get cold. With that thought, Will got out of the creek, dried off, and headed back to the tent. Michaela was, as usual, right on his heels. He didn't mind. She'd never been on one of these camping trips and had no idea what to do. She did pretty well by following his lead, though.

"Don't come into the tent until I'm done, now, Michaela."

"Okay," she said, looking quite pitiful. Will ignored the puppy face and went into the tent, changing out of the wet shorts and into clean pants and a shirt. "Okay, Michaela."

She entered immediately.

"You really don't like it when I do that, do you?" he asked.

"No, not at all. It's awkward standing out there, cold, and the only of my kind."

Will shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it."

"You could let me come in."

"Not happening."

"Well I don't understand why you're so embarrassed!"

He shrugged, "I don't understand why you're not."

Her mouth opened in an attempt to reply, but closed again as she reconsidered. Her ears laid back in thought. "Fair enough," she finally said.

Will grinned, "I thought so. Now, here's a coat, because it's about to get cold out," he said, handing her said coat.

Michaela smiled.

"Don't get too happy. I didn't feel like going back to the tent when you got cold."

She stuck her tongue out at him. He shrugged and exited the tent, bumping into her on the way out. She was wet.

"Get outta my tent. You're wet."

She came out, coat in hand. "I'm going to dry off by the fire."

"Just get dry or you're not getting in my sleeping bag" he said, poking her ribs. She jumped a bit and gave him an evil eye. He grinned widely as they got into the fire ring. Will sat on a log while Michaela dried off by the fire. She occasionally licked down spots in her fur that were out of place.

About half an hour later, the sky was black and sprinkled with stars and Michaela was bone dry and her fur was spotless. Will was slightly amazed at how she did that. Human girls could do the same sort of thing, he supposed, but they usually used ten kinds of combs and picks, magic and a hundred pounds of makeup, and they weren't covered in fur head to toe, either.

Will shrugged. It was interesting, not that it mattered. He was much too young to be interested in girls, but old enough that he wasn't grossed out by them, as he was at one time. As a matter of fact, he didn't quite understand why he'd ever thought that girls were disgusting, but he very well had. He shrugged. _Not that it matters._

He realized that it had grown dark. Michaela had gotten dry and was sitting beside him. Most of the boys were talking quietly amongst themselves. Some, mostly the tired ones, sat quietly. Will and Michaela were among them.

The Headmaster stole the show and begun telling the gathered youth about the adventure Will and Michaela had had fighting off the bear. Will and Michaela nodded tiredly along.

The Headmaster laughed, "I see that the ordeal tired them out."

Will smiled tiredly, "You could say that, sir."

Michaela's head thumped on his shoulder, fast asleep.

"And apparently, her more than I."

"Well, you get her to bed. Good job today."

Will nodded to him and carried her to the tent. He had quite the time getting the rainfly open and not dropping the little Fox too hard, but he managed somehow. He couldn't get her into the sleeping bag, no matter what he did, so he shook her gently. She didn't wake. He shook a little harder. Tapped her cheek. Finally, she woke up. "Michaela, get into the sleeping bag."

He chuckled as she crawled in, ears drooping and tail hanging, leaving his coat laying on the floor of the tent. He changed into more comfortable clothes for sleeping and crawled in right behind her, this time being wise enough to bring his watch with him. The two begun the process of tiredly getting comfortable. Michaela, whom Will could tell was barely awake, turned her head to face him and tiredly asked, "Could you put your arms around me again? I liked that. It was warm."

Will smiled, "Yeah, I can do that."

He pushed his arms around her and wrapped them tightly. She shifted a bit and her head dropped. Will grinned and chuckled lightly, slowly drifting into sleep himself.

Will awoke to Michaela shifting in his arms. He chuckled, "Finally wake up?"

"Yeah, you shut up."

"Well, you are… Incredibly tired."

"Yeah, I kinda went feral there for a second."

"You're kidding?"

She shook her head tiredly. "It tends to drain you."

"No kidding. No wonder you were able to completely kill that bear."

"No," she said, "you did a lot. That fire and all."

"I actually just figured that one out, when I was trying to make the crystals. I compressed my manna a bit too much and it exploded."

"Good for you," she said and poked his nose with a blunt claw.

He glared at her, "None of that, now, do you want to sleep or not?"

"Well," she said, "I don't think I'll be able to."

"Why not?" he asked, feeling his brow furrow.

"Well, I just keep thinking about it… I just slipped into it… I couldn't even control myself… It was like I was watching someone else… I _was _watching someone else, in my own body. It was like my instincts, my base, just took over."

"It's what happens," Will said. "Nothing you can do about it. Nothing I can do about it. Don't worry about it. It's part of who you are. It is in your blood. Instinct drives you, keeps you alive. It lets you do things you shouldn't be capable of. Embrace your biology, don't fear it."

She rolled over in his arms so she faced him. "You're the first person to ever tell me that… All the other Humans… they told me that I was just a stupid Keidran and that I should hate myself for being born this way, and that…"

Will cut her off with a finger to her lips. "Shhh… Shhh… They lied. They lied. You are who you are, no matter what. You are a person, same as me. You're not stupid or an animal or anything else you've been told. You're smart. Incredibly smart. You've learned magic faster than any Human I've ever seen. You're good. You're just used to being called stupid and you can't get over it… And" – he ran a finger over her leather strip of a collar – "this control spell is designed to lower your self-esteem. Makes you behave much better when you think that you're inferior. Hold on." He started manipulating the spell, removing that small chunk of the spell and covering his tracks, so to speak. "Hopefully that'll help."

"I don't feel any drastic change."

"You won't. It's more of a slow gradual thing."

"Oh, okay," she said and yawned.

"The spell is gone instantly, but it'll take time for it to affect your psychology."

"Oh."

"Don't worry about it. I'll get you fixed up yet," he said, winked, and poked her wet nose. It made her face scrunch in an odd way that Will thought… cute? Would that be the right word? _I think so. _That thought, he poked it again, causing her to squeal quietly and scrunch her face again.

"Stop that," she said in a demanding whisper.

"Okay," he said reluctantly.

"I want to get some more sleep," she said, rolling over in his arms and falling asleep in short order. Will fell asleep smiling.

* * *

><p><em>Will and Michaela knew that they felt warm, they felt safe, together. They didn't understand why and they weren't fully aware of it, either, but it was true, nonetheless. Together, they were warm and the world outside that small sleeping bag was very, very cold, in more than one sense of the word. It was literally cold, yes, but it was metaphorically cold, as well. It was cold and cruel. It did its best to crush the hopes and dreams of a little Keidran doing her best to stay alive and stay sane in a world set against her.<em>


	3. Chapter III

_Will and Michaela stayed warm all night. They were happy with each other, warm as they were. But there were about to get exposed to one of the coldest things their world had to offer._

* * *

><p>Michaela could feel Will's arms wrapped around her stomach, warm and soft, as she slowly woke up. She moved her arm to rub her eye, a task not easily achieved within the cramped confines of the sleeping bag. The bag was far too large for one person Will's size, but it was rather small for a person and a Keidran. Not that she was complaining; for some reason just beyond her understanding, she liked being so close to Will. It was an instinctual thing, she supposed. Not that it really mattered.<p>

She wondered what time it was, how long she had here in this isolation with Will. Normally, she hated being alone, but being alone with Will was another story. Then again, it wasn't really _alone, _was it? No. Again, not that it mattered. Will's arms twitched slightly. He tried to wipe something off his left arm, then something else off his right arm. He couldn't seem to get the invisible substances off his arms and became more and more frenzied as he failed. Finally, he startled himself awake, taking in a sudden, sharp breath.

Michaela giggled lightly. "Fighting something?"

"Your freaking fur," he returned bluntly and tiredly.

She had to fight not to burst into laughter. A stifled set of giggles resulted.

He poked her in the ribs. He released her from his arms, a bit of a chore in the small bag, and shifted. She heard a watch open. "Might as well go ahead and get up. Only a few minutes before they make us."

"Do we have to?"

"They usually send the kids that are already awake out to get the sleepers up. How do you think it'd go if they found us like this?"

With that Hellish thought, Michaela clumsily clambered out of the sleeping bag. Will followed, though with far more finesse than Michaela could manage. How _did _he do that?

Will changed the coverings he wore, making her turn around as he did so. That still annoyed Michaela, though not nearly as much as it once had. He grabbed that collection of utensils he called a mess kit and they headed for the breakfast line. He handed her a fork and a plate and they filed through. "Our patrol has mess duty tomorrow, so we'll really have to get up early."

She eyed him questioningly, raising an ear in anticipation of an explanation.

"Mess duty is when we make breakfast."

"Joy."

"Don't complain. You'll have to cook for us soon enough, I'm sure. Practice won't hurt."

Michaela sighed, grumbled a bit, and went through the line and got her food begrudgingly. The next day would be loads of fun, she estimated. She shrugged, nothing to be done about it today. She and Will sat on a log alone, waiting for Will's friends to join them. The Templar Headmaster walked up and whispered into Will's ear. A well-directed ear ensured that Michaela heard what he was saying, though she probably wasn't supposed to.

"Will, I just got word that a Templar Council member will be joining us today. I would advise that Michaela not be around when he's here or you may never see her again. You've got 'till assembly."

Will's eyes widened. Michaela was forced to keep her face perfectly straight. The Headmaster walked away.

Will turned to Michaela and repeated what the Headmaster had said, word for word.

"Great," she muttered.

Will shrugged, "Can't be helped. He shouldn't be here long. He's a busy man, after all."

Michaela nodded and finished eating with her usual rapidity. Will wasn't far behind. "You probably need to get to hide in my tent. That's gotta be the safest place here."

"How long do I have?"

"Assembly is at 8:00, so about half an hour... No, actually, I'm sure he's a punctual man. Fifteen minutes at max."

"Okay," she sighed, not much liking the idea of being cooped up until the man left-no telling how long that would be.

"I'm sorry, if it helps," Will said, clearly able to tell that she was dreading the day.

For some reason rather beyond Michaela's understanding, it did help, ever so slightly. "Yeah, a bit," she said, trying to smile a little.

Will nodded, grimaced, shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it. Enjoy some rest."

Actually, that didn't sound too bad at all.

"C'mon, let's wash up the dish…" Will stopped midsentence. He shivered, though it was actually quite warm out.

Michaela heard a wagon bumping slowly along.

"He's here, c'mon, hurry," Will said, gently grabbing her wrist though fairly dragging her to his tent. He really didn't want the Council Member (whoever that was) to see her here.

They got into the tent and Will closed it up. "How'd you hear him before I did? I know my ears are more sensitive than yours."

"I didn't hear it."

She raised a curious eyebrow and an attentive ear.

"I… I… felt it. Cold. So very cold. The manna in the ground seemed to turn sour. I've never felt anything like it. I don't like it at all."

Michaela nodded. "I don't like the idea of him much at all."

Will shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it. I am sorry, though."

Michaela shrugged, noticing that he was taking his uniform shirts and outer robes down from the hangar in the top of the tent. "You want me to turn around, I suppose?"

"No, I'm just changing shirts and my outer robe," he said as he removed said garments. His skin was very light and smooth, a creamy tone. She very badly wanted to touch it, but made herself refrain. Will was uncomfortable enough changing his garments around her as it was. He looked at her with a curious eye and sighed, "Go ahead and touch my skin."

Michaela giggled, "You know me well," and reached out a furred hand. She rubbed his chest gently. His skin was indeed smooth and soft. He forcibly subdued a laugh. Realizing her furred fingers probably tickled, she withdrew them.

"Satisfied?"

"Yes," she said mischeviously and grinned equally mischeviously.

Will rolled his eyes and put on his uniform shirt, buttoning it rapidly, tucking its fringes into his pants, donning his robes and straightening them. He seemed to have trouble with the straightening part, so Michaela reached over and helped him. He smiled, "Thank you."

She nodded. Grinned pleasantly.

"I'm very sorry, but I'd better go... Feel free to play around with any of my stuff, entertain yourself. Hopefully, he'll be gone soon."

"Okay... have fun," she said as she curled up for a nap. Despite being so worked up, she managed to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>Will straightened his robes carefully. Made sure all his badges and insignia were just so. Assumed a relaxed version of attention, waiting for to be called to the real thing. Will wasn't anxious, not at all. He wasn't nervous, either. He was scared. He was scared out of his mind. Rumors were always circulating about Council Member Tigreson, who the Headmaster said it was. None of them were ever any good. Thus, Will was doing his darndest to ensure he wasn't out of order, that the Councilman would have no reason to call him out. He didn't want to be called out. He noticed many of the other boys were doing the same. Some weren't, mostly the younger ones.<p>

He whispered to the younger ones he was friends with, telling them things to fix on their uniforms. He always seemed to be looking out for the other kids. He tried, at any rate. He'd saved a few of their heads a couple times. His patrol was already in good order, thankfully. Will had made sure that all of the members of his patrol had Templar, or at least, military parents. It really helped him out; if he didn't have to look out for his patrol, he could look out for the younger kids more. For some reason, he just felt obligated to take care of them. He didn't know why, but he always had. _Just like I do with Michaela.._. _Instinct? _Perhaps.

A shrill whistle sounded _I'll bet that hurts Michaela's ears,_ he thought as he straightened to attention. He straightened his back, left arm flush to his side, right across his stomach horizontally, stared straight ahead. Perfect Templar attention. No reason for him to be called out before the day was even started.

He saw his Headmaster and another man, who Will assumed to be the Councilman, standing beside each other talking quietly. The man who stood beside the Headmaster had stark black hair that seemed to absorb the light. Its tips appeared to be singed with red. He had a black robe over a white tunic emblazoned with the Templar logo. His eyes carried an odd, pure blue; so youthful, so alive. But the edges of his eyes looked so tired, seeming to carry the weight of the deaths of many, betraying the inner calm his eyes seemed to display. His face was stern, commanding. In his very presence was death, cold death.

Will was even more scared now. The Councilman was lanky and thin, but his presence was intimidating. Scary. Deadening.

The youth stood insanely still. Normally, even at attention, they were still rowdy. Not today. No one moved a muscle. Will wondered if some of them were even breathing. Will wondered if _he_ was breathing sometimes. Will desperately wanted to say something, break the silence that seemed to be suffocating him. But he knew he couldn't. No matter what, he couldn't make a noise; do anything to draw attention to himself.

Both the Headmaster and the Councilman begun a slow walk towards the ranks of assembled Youth. They came into Will's hearing range, the Headmaster speaking slowly, "…yes, that seems to be the problem these days. The men are more than capable, but they aren't disciplined. The Templar is a Mage Guild, not a military."

The Councilman started speaking in a low, slow, tired, methodical voice, "Not any more. That's what the new Grand Templar is doing. In short time, the Templar shall not only rival, but _exceed _the King's Army. We already match their numbers. We'll soon match their capability. The Academy is being reformed, and, along with the Templar Youth, it will be essential in reforming our youth into… soldiers. See," – he indicated a Youth – "he's in uniform, perfect attention, but the uniform isn't perfect. He's not deliberate with it. It's like he's not proud of it."

They continued walking and talking, growing ever closer to Will.

The Councilman stopped in front of Will. He spoke very slowly now, "You see" – he motioned at Will with a finger – "we need men like this boy. See, he's in uniform, he's at perfect attention. His uniform is straight. He's proud to be in it. He _wants _to be here. You're gonna go far, kid." He patted Will's shoulder with something resembling affection and kept walking.

Will thought that his heart had stopped. His stomach turned violently. His breathing shuddered. But he wasn't sweating. He was cold. So very cold. Whoever this man, if you could call him a man, was, he carried death with him. He seemed to control death, hold it in his hands, strangle it, master it.

No.

He _was _death.

* * *

><p>After waking up, Michaela took Will's advice, and had indeed gone through Will's stuff and played with anything she thought she could have fun with. Being very much like a fox, and being easily entertained as a fox, that involved, well, most everything in the pack.<p>

Unlike a fox, though, she'd been careful to put the things back up when she was finished. But one thing in particular amused her; a small round thing with a glass top and bottom. Inside was a needle that always pointed the same direction. Behind the needle, around the edges of the circle, among a lot of little tick marks, were the Human letters _N, E, S and W. _Michaela didn't know what they meant, or if they stood for anything, but she knew that the needle _always _pointed the same way, well, if she held it level, anyway.

There were other things that were fun, of course. She had a ball just throwing the fabrics around and catching them before they hit the floor of the tent.

After she'd done that for a while, she packed everything back up carefully and, having tired herself out (again), curled up inside (and with) one of the blankets.

* * *

><p>Josh Tigreson marched along the lines of almost impossibly perfect Templar Youth. He was glad that he'd suggested Trace make enrollment in The Youth mandatory for all Youth in the Human Empire capable of magic. It helped youths learn to follow orders, to trust their superiors. It made them better soldiers.<p>

The Templar needed that. The Brotherhood, the Guild, was growing, yes, but it was filled with mages, magicians. Most of them were geniuses. That was good. It made them good. But it wasn't what Trace (or Josh) wanted. They wanted mindless drones that would follow their every command. They'd do exactly what he wanted. That is how you controlled the world. If the people were too stupid to know they were being controlled, then they would allow themselves to be controlled. Josh could see that Trace's plan was falling together, ever so slowly.

"Do you wish to review the campsite, sir?" the Youth's Headmaster said. He was an older man. He had a calm voice, a kind face. But Josh could tell that this was but a shell for a powerful man, a man with a powerful soul.

The kind of soul that called upon the dragons.

The kind of soul to which the dragons listened.

Could Josh get this kindly-seeming man to follow him to the ends of Mekkan? He would be an incredibly powerful asset. Josh could see the manna flowing from him, a commanding presence. No wonder the youth obeyed him so well.

* * *

><p>Templar Youth Headmaster Glynn looked into those vivid eyes that Josh Tigreson held. They seemed to live of themselves. They glowed in an ethereal manner, seemingly the opposite of his dragon black hair. Legend had it that manna created with evil intent held this color. Glynn believed that legend more than ever now.<p>

Josh had a tired face. A slow, pained voice. But both of these hid the true nature of the man standing beside him. This tired look was a mask for the power inside him. Josh had a dead soul, but a powerful soul.

The kind of soul that called upon the dragons.

The kind of soul which the dragons obeyed.

They'd finished reviewing the ranks of the Youth. "Do you wish to review the campsite, sir?" he asked slowly, kindly.

The Councilman responded with equally slow words, but words that seemed to be filled with the pain of something he'd seen and never quite forgotten. "Yes, let us."

"Dismissed," Glynn said to the assembled Youth. He turned to the Councilman, "We don't do like an Army camp, rows of tents. The Youth set up the tents where they wish to. This helps them learn proper placement of a tent. It also lets us guide them on where to place the tents."

"What is the point of this if the Army will make them place their tents in rows?"

Glynn smiled, "We hope this won't be the case in the Templar. This is far more efficient, sanitary and safe."

Josh nodded, "Then it won't be the case."

Glynn nodded. "See, we're already making progress."

They both laughed.

* * *

><p>The Headmaster told him that this was a model tent for their system of letting the boys set up their own tents. Now Josh saw what he meant. It was very distant from the latrines, but close to the camp's kitchen. It was on a small knoll, but still close to a small brook. It was genius. <em>Yes, this needs to be implemented in the ranks immediately. The King's Army if Trace and I have any say in the matter, <em>he thought slowly, smiling.

"May I look inside?" He asked the headmaster slowly.

"Well, the inside of the tents isn't exactly role model, sir. They are youth, after all."

"That needs to be fixed," Josh said, sensing some hesitancy, fear, in the Headmaster.

To Josh's surprise, the Headmaster laughed. "One improvement at a time, sir."

Josh surprised himself by laughing with him. It was a fair point. "I mostly want to look at how the tents are held up. They're different that what we use."

"Just smaller, sir. Well, why don't you look into another tent, of a Youth that stays a little tidier inside?"

_What does he not want me to see in this tent? _"No, this one will do."

That said, Josh opened the fasteners on the tent, looked inside.

He didn't believe his eyes. Shivering in fear, in the far corner of the tent, was a young female Fox Keidran. He saw Amy's eyes in her. That only enraged him farther. He reached forward, grabbed its throat, jerked it out of the tent.

"What the Hell is this rat doing here?" he yelled at The Headmaster, waving the dog's struggling body in front of the shocked youth leader.

But Josh heard a growling, booming voice behind him. A fireball flew by his head. "Hands off her!"

Josh turned slowly. It was the Youth who'd had the straightest uniform of them all. Pity he would have to die. Josh flung the rat into the side of a tree, brought his full form to face the Youth, who was stripping his outer robes off, freeing himself up. Josh decided that he didn't need to do the same. This boy couldn't challenge him. But he looked to try. Manna was glowing all around the boy, whose hands were lighting up with fire. His eyes held a wild look. Anger, fear, certainty, power, all in one.

If Josh didn't kill him first, the boy's soul would one day call upon the dragons.

And they would bow.

Josh couldn't allow that, could he? Josh launched a fireball, which was dodged by the boy, who charged him, jumped, spun around, lashing out with fire.

Josh blocked with arms in front of his face, retaliated with a right swing containing a blast of manna.

The boy caught it, seemed to grab the energy, spun it back around, right into Josh's side. Josh let the energy carry him back, didn't try to fight it. Still stung like hell.

The boy was right on top of him now, delivering punches enhanced by manna. Those were pretty painful, too.

Josh swung at him, but the boy was nimble, dodged it, rolled around behind him, redirected the energy, letting Josh move himself unintentionally.

Suddenly, there was a sharp, driving pain in Josh's back. "You little bas..." he reached behind himself, found the boy's head, seized it with magically enhanced strength, slung the kid over his head, slammed him to the ground with a satisfying _thud_. Putting the weight of his body and the strength of firey manna behind it, he delivered a blow to the child's gut that he suspected would kill him.

Now for the little rat that the child was trying to protect. He searched for the Keidran, didn't see her. What he saw was The Headmaster, who didn't look happy. The manna in him seemed to almost burn with rage. Behind him were the other leaders of the Youth, and, behind them, the entire assembly of the youth.

"You better leave, Josh," The Headmaster said in what was almost a growl. "I'd hate to rebel against the Empire, but I'm about this close," he continued, holding up a hand with two fingers held close together. Fire flowed between them.

Josh wasn't dumb. He may have been more than a match for each of them individually, or even in smaller groups. But there were eighty-something of them there. They would overwhelm him with pure mob mentality.

* * *

><p>Will groaned. That last hit had probably done terrible things to his organs. He could feel himself fade in and out of consciousness. He was cold.<p>

The Headmaster appeared above him, hands glowing, healing. "Michaela. Where is she? Is she alright?" he asked, trying to stay awake.

The Headmaster shushed him, "She's okay. One of the other leaders is taking care of her. You're hurt a whole lot worse, boy... That was pretty dumb, son."

"I know. I... I couldn't let him hurt her like that."

The Headmaster glanced somewhere outside of Will's field of vision. "Remind me not to screw with her, kid." he laughed.

Will laughed a bit, but it hurt too much. He coughed. That hurt, too. Coughed some more, shocking him with waves of pain. He coughed something warm, iron tasting, into his mouth, on his cheeks. Blood.

Then it was all black.

* * *

><p>Michaela sat beside Will, who laid on what the leaders called a 'bedroll.' Three or four of the leaders, and a couple of boys, attended to his body like worker bees. They were all trying to heal him, but he'd been hurt real bad.<p>

Suddenly, he took a deep breath in, raised up. The Headmaster helped him up.

"Well, that hurt," he muttered.

"I'm not surprised," one of the leaders said. "That man had every intention of killing you."

"Well he didn't," Will said, somehow managing a smile. Michaela shook her head. How did one smile about that? Some level of cockiness over his exceedance of expectations, no doubt. Michaela rolled her eyes and decided to dismiss it as that.

"Tell you what, though, kid," The Headmaster said, "You ain't gonna be able to hike out by tomorrow. No way."

"I can do it," Will said with shaking confidence in himself.

"No, you're not. I'm sure you could make it about halfway, but I don't care to drag your tail the rest of the way home. We'll teleport you and Michaela back today."

"Very well," Will accepted, if begrudgingly.

"I'll get our stuff together," Michaela said.

"Yeah, let me help you," he said, groaning as he got up.

She pointed a claw at him, "You rest. I'll get it."

"No, I'm getting it. You rest, let them keep healing you," Michaela was trying not to sound stern so as not to aggravate the leaders.

Will kept trying to get up.

"No, seriously, if you get up, we'll kill you," one of the kids Michaela knew was in Will's patrol said.

Will laid back down.

Michaela and the boy laughed and headed for her and Will's tent.

As they neared it, Michaela squinted and realized that there were several burn marks on it.

The boy chuckled, "Dang. Will was pissed about that guy hurting you."

Michaela shook her head in disbelief, "No kidding."

"Speaking of, you okay?"

"Yeah, they healed me pretty quick."

The boy nodded, opened the tent flap, which had already been undone. "Looks like most of you two's stuff is already packed up. Just the sleeping bags, these blankets and Will's Uniform Robe."

"Which he threw on the ground outside, if I recall."

"Yep," he said with some rue.

"I'll get it," Michaela muttered and walked outside the tent.

As she stepped outside, she saw, for the first time, the burn marks, the areas impacted by manna from Will's fight with the Templar. He'd really given his all to defend her. She shook her head in awe, grabbed Will's Uniform and carried it back to the tent.

The boy took it from her, brushed the dirt off it, folded it neatly and packed it.

He looked around, "That seems to be everything."

"Time to pack up the tent?"

He nodded.

Now that was a process. It took them close to an hour. The tent was composed of heavy canvas, the poles rigid wood lashed together. "How the heck do you even set this thing up?" she asked, wiping sweat out of the fur on her forehead.

The boy shrugged, "Three hours of hard work... And a half ton of magic."

Michaela laughed. "We should have used that taking it down."

"No, I'm using that to pack it up. I promise, that's the hardest part."

"What part?"

He held up a canvas bag, "Fitting that" - he pointed at the tent, partially folded on the ground - "into this." he indicated the canvas bag. "So," he said, sitting the bag, end open in front of the tent, "I do this instead." He placed his hand to the ground. Michaela saw scripts light up in blue all along the tent. It folded itself neatly, slid into the bag on its own.

"That's... _convenient,_" Michaela said, impressed.

"Indeed it is," the boy said.

* * *

><p>The next day, Michaela and Will, along with Will's bag, were inside a glowing circle on the ground. Outside it, the Headmaster chanted an incantation and they vanished. They reappeared in front of the Cooper household. That spell still gave Michaela an odd feeling. It settled down shortly as they made their way toward the house.<p>

Will's parents weren't there, as expected. The other children and the babysitter weren't either, which wasn't expected.

"Where are they?" Michaela asked.

"Probably town," Will shrugged. He limped over to the couch, sat down, breathing heavily.

Michaela walked over, looked him over. "He hurt you badly."

"Tell me about it," he groaned.

"I wish I knew how to heal," she muttered.

He held his hands together. They glowed for a second. He opened them to reveal a manna crystal. "Here, I'll bet you can."

Michaela doubted it, but she figured she could try.

"Now, dissolve it."

One of the few things Michaela already knew how to do. She pulled the energy into her body, let it stay in her hands.

"Bring it toward my leg, that one hurts the most."

She did so.

"Now, let it flow between the two of us. You'll feel the things that are off, broken, fix them."

She let the manna leave her, flow into Will. She could indeed tell that some things were off. Things were too hot, out of place. She let the manna flow into them, sort them out. It almost seemed to... happen. The manna expired and she removed her hands.

Will smiled at her, "Told you you could do it."

She shrugged, "Guess so... Look, I have to ask..." She hesitated.

"Spit it out," Will muttered flatly.

"Why did... Why did you do that?"

He shrugged as she sat on the couch beside him. "I just couldn't stand to watch him hurt you like that."

She nodded. "Why? Why do I matter to you? I'm just a Keidran. I'm just a slave."

"You're not _just _anything, Michaela."

"Really? Then why am I a slave?" She realized she was shouting only after she'd said it.

"I don't know. I don't understand. I don't know why Humans think themselves above Keidran. Just during our camping trip, I've seen how smart you are. I've seen how much of a person you really are. That's why I took that part of your control spell away. As it turns out, it was more than that that made you feel so inferior."

"How can I get you to see that I _am _inferior. You shouldn't even be speaking to me!"

"Prove it. Prove in one way, that you're inferior to me."

"I rely on instinct."

"You're different. Not inferior."

"I'm not as smart."

"Yes you are. You learned magic faster than I could ever dream of doing so."

She ran out of things to tell him about then. She didn't know anymore, didn't care. She was still his slave, something she considered both a blessing and a curse. She was tired. She knew that. It was one of the few things she did know.

She woke up staring up at Will, who was chuckling at her.

"What's so funny?"

"You just fell asleep and fell in my lap. It was pretty funny."

She was laying in his lap? She looked around. Just her head. She was using his legs as a pillow, more or less. She, too, chuckled at herself. How did that happen? She decided not to worry about it.

"Get up," Will told her, "They're coming back, I see the wagon."

"Under one condition."

"Okay?"

"Promise you'll protect me like you did yesterday for as long as we live."

He smiled, "I will. I promise."

* * *

><p><em>Will didn't know how long he would hold on to that promise, how long he would have to protect Michaela from the cold world. He also didn't know that, one day, he would hand the promise over to another man from another world. He didn't know how seriously that man would take the promise, either.<em>


	4. Chapter IV

**I'm very sorry, my friends. I am permanently discontinuing The Lost Chapters. As those of you who read Burning Paper Tigers are aware, my girlfriend cheated on me and left me for another guy. As it turns out, I was never quite good enough for her. Unfortunately, Michaela had become her in The Lost Chapters. I've tried for a very long time to add to this work of mine, which was destined to go great places, but I simply can't. All I managed to add was one sentence, one sentence which sums up everything I've felt for the Hell that has been the last three months; "It seemed he needed her to be warm."**

**I'm posting what little I had on chapter four, I owe it to all my readers. You're all great people and I'm so sorry to fail you like this. I'm sorry that I couldn't finish this. I'm sorry I couldn't take this work the great places I had planned for it to go. I'm sorry that it ended as it did. Maybe someday I'll find the will to finish it.**

_Time passed quickly for Michaela in the Cooper household. It was a quiet place, for the most part. She did her duty as a slave, begun to grow up. It wasn't a hard life, but it wasn't easy, either. She and Will grew closer together. They didn't think of them selves as brother and sister. But they certainly weren't slave and master. They'd find out who they really were to each other soon enough._

* * *

><p>Michaela busily washed dishes. The kids ran around her feet.<p>

"Anne! Jen! Stop running in the house!"

They persisted.

She threw up a hand, absorbing a manna crystal John had given her for this purpose. _"__Tardus__."_

The blue bolt hit the both of them and they were slowed quite a bit.

_"Exspirare." _The spell expired and they tumbled end over end across the kitchen floor, laughing.

"You think it's funny? Next time, I'll make you run into the wall."

They laughed harder. How did parents do it? _By hiring slaves, _she noted ruefully.

With that observation, she went back to washing dishes. The water was hot, but it provided no warmth. It was a frigid day, physically and emotionally. John and Korey edged toward being the masters that Michaela feared more and more each day as John's mother laid on her deathbed. Michaela didn't blame them, not one bit. She just kept being the good slave. She didn't know where Will was, but she guessed brooding in their room (Will and Michaela shared the home's large attic). Fortunately, the young ones seemed to be too young to know what was really happening.

She finished washing the dishes, dried her hands. John and Korey weren't back from their visit with Korey's mother, so Michaela decided to go see what she could do about Will.

She climbed the half ladder, half staircase that went up to the attic, which was quite frigid at the moment. The magic that provided insulation against the elements did quite well from turning it into an oven in the summer, but for some reason didn't seem to do much in the way of preventing it from becoming a freezer in the winter. John had checked over the spells in the past, but had never managed to do much to them. Michaela shrugged it off and bundled up. Fortunately for her, her winter coat was rather warm.

As she expected, she found Will sitting on the edge of his bed, face in hands.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, just worried about grandma."

"What is it that you always tell me? 'Worrying doesn't get anything done?'" She asked, making a fair imitation of his voice.

He rolled his eyes, grinned ruefully, "Not helping."

"I think it is," she smiled. "You'd do well to listen to yourself every once in awhile."

He shook his head, "No, I usually give terrible advice."

"That's why I don't listen to you," she said, sticking out her tongue at him.

He rolled his eyes. "No, you don't listen because you're stubborn."

That wasn't far from the truth, Michaela admitted to herself.

Her sensitive ears picked up the sound of John's teleportation spell outside. "They're here," she announced, getting up to go down and see how Will's grandmother was doing.

She waved for Will to follow. He shook his head, waved her on. She shrugged, went down on her own. The two stepped through the door.

The looks on both of their faces told her that the worst had happened.

For a reason that Michaela didn't understand, Korey wrapped _her _in a hug that she half-heartedly (and confusedly) returned

Supper was ominus. Korey was a mess. John looked well enough, but he didn't eat much, which meant that it was bothering him severely.

The house echoed Korey's sobs. Other than the clanking of forks being played with rather than used to eat, they were the only sounds present in the house.

John and Korey retired after they'd eaten. The kids wandered off in a daze. Michaela, as usual, tidied up, washed the dishes. She looked for Will and, as she'd expected, found him sitting on his bed, on the verge of crying. She walked over quietly, sat on the bed beside him gently, sat a quiet but comforting hand on his back. It was as if she didn't want to break the silence which was suffocating, but frail. It seemed as though breaking it would cause Will to explode. So they both held the silence. She rubbed his back silently, comforting him as best she knew how.

Suddenly, he had her wrapped in a hug, crying loudly, his body wracked with sobs. She hugged him back. The silence broken, she whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He only sobbed harder. She made soothing, shushing sounds. They helped, she supposed.

* * *

><p>Will laid in bed, sobbing. It was night. It was time to go to sleep. But between sobbing and rolling about restlessly, he couldn't seem to sleep.<p>

He heard a familiar, soothing, quiet voice, nearing him as it spoke. "Can't sleep?"

"No."

"Me either, for your wailing."

He chuckled through the tears. "Sorry."

While the attic was pitch black and he couldn't see her, he felt her sit on the edge of the bed.

"It's alright."

He felt her shiver.

"Still cold in here."

He laughed, "I don't reckon dad's ever gonna fix those spells. He says he'll get around to it, but he ain't yet." He was trying to be humorous, his old, usual self. It didn't seem to be working. He felt her shiver again. That fur didn't seem to do much against the cold of the attic.

"If you're going to be over here, you might as well get in here."

He felt the cold influx from outside of the covers, followed by her warm body. It had been four years since they'd shamelessly shared a sleeping bag on a Templar Youth campout. He'd only been twelve then. She'd only been four. He was sixteen now, she eight. A whole lot had changed. They now knew that the two of them, being separate species and genders, sharing a small sleeping bag or a small bed, really meant.

Tonight, Will could care less.

Michaela didn't seem to either.

He felt her furry hands on his bare back. She was rubbing it gently. It felt wonderful. He did his best to dry his tears, somehow managed to succeed.

"I really am sorry, Will. I wish I could help."

"You are," he said, smiling despite himself, even though she couldn't see it.

He could almost hear her smile, "Good."

He rolled over to face her and somehow managed to smack his face on her muzzle.

After they'd both gripped their mouths and cursed in their respective languages, they laughed quietly.

"Sorry. I didn't realize you were so close."

"I didn't realize _you _were so close," she chuckled.

He rolled his eyes, "Hush."

"You okay, though?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah. Your head is hard, I will add," she chuckled.

"So is your face," he muttered tiredly. Yawned.

"Finally ready to go to sleep?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. Thanks, Michaela."

"You're welcome," she said and started to slide out of the covers.

"No," he said, grabbed her furry arm. "Stay. Please." He could feel the tears reforming in the corners of his eyes.

"Okay," she said, slid back down a bit.

Hours later, they woke up, just like they had four years ago, in each other's arms.

Unlike four years ago, where they had gladly stayed in each other's arms for the warmth and the comfort, they separated rapidly, awkwardly. Michaela returned to her bed. Will shivered back to sleep. Why was it so much colder when she wasn't around? _Body __warmth__, _he thought snidely to himself. But that wasn't the only cold when she wasn't around. Something else. something deeper. It seemed he needed her to be warm.

* * *

><p><strong>Goodbye and thank you all.<strong>


End file.
